


The Edge

by ArcaneNonsense



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Bottom!Lucifer, Cock Ring, Dom MC, Edging, Gender Neutral Main Character, I left it vague, Magical restraints, Not beta read we die like Lilith, Orgasm Denial, Other, Pegging, Prostate Massage, Prostate Milking, Sub Lucifer, Teasing, but also not pegging cause it is vague, it could be a dick if your mc is male
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24364993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcaneNonsense/pseuds/ArcaneNonsense
Summary: You've been looking for a way to help Lucifer relax. Truly relax. And after he comes home tense one day, you put your plan into motion.AKA: The fic where you edge Lucifer until he begs and cries
Relationships: Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Lucifer/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 569





	The Edge

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this trying to keep it as gender neutral as possible. I left it vague enough that the reader could be either using a strap-on or have a penis themselves.  
> Not beta read, we die like MC did.

You’d made up your mind long ago, the very night you made that pact. He’d put on a tremendous show about how ‘you are mine, I am not your possession, I possess you, et cetera et cetera’ when you sealed your pact bond, and he’d carted you off to bed that night. You treasured that memory and his acceptance of you, the tiniest peek over the walls the former archangel had built up. But whether it was just the thrill of the challenge, Asmodeus rubbing off on you, or some twisted version of caring and wanting to help, you’d always had the urge to return the favour in a _very_ specific way. 

You’d broached the subject vaguely a few times, bringing up the concept of him yielding control a few times, even just as a simple gesture. He’d entertained the thought, or at least seemed to, but never budged much on the issue. He’d say something about not wanting to disappoint Diavolo, not wanting to waste time, or being too busy. You knew the thought of even giving up control ground directly against his pride, and so you let it rest— briefly.

You let him use the excuse of not wanting to waste time a few more times, though he never seemed to think him carting you off to his room or appearing in your room in the middle of the night to expend some pent up stress or energy or desire was a waste of time. After that happened three times, you’d built up the courage to take advantage of his marginally more distracted and vulnerable self mid, er, _engagement_ to trap his leg and flip him over, settling yourself triumphantly on his chest. His eyes had flared with blue fire for a moment, but although he visibly bit back protests he seemed to enjoy the end result just as much as he did when he was on top.

Despite that victory, the urge to truly take control nagged in the back of your mind. The temptation to see what he would look like, splayed out and vulnerable, blissed out of his mind— oh, it was a tantalizing prospect.

And so it was with a small degree of shame that you started doing research, research into how to harness the power of the pacts you had made. You couldn’t stomach going to Solomon for help, he’d just ask why you wanted the ability to control your demons— they were _your_ demons by this point— again. That sorcerer was worrying intuitive and you were bad at hiding a blush. He was bound to figure out why.

You spent several afternoons in Satan’s room, or the library, dodging questions about what books you were reading or what subject you were researching. The last thing you wanted was for Lucifer to catch on. Weeks flew by before you were finally confident enough that you could do what you wanted to do, weeks filled with you gently pushing the subject to try and test the waters, weeks of him avoiding the questions or simply giving non-answers before fucking you into whichever bed you’d found yourselves in again.

You had planned on it being a certain night, a special night, where you’d cook him dinner and share a bottle of human wine (liquid courage for you, it would have been needed), then lure him to your room where you had all the tools waiting. 

Naturally, things did not go according to plan. You’d heard a ruckus coming from downstairs, the telltale sound of Mammon’s yelp, and Lucifer yelling. When you made your way downstairs Mammon was hanging upside down, Lucifer was pacing, and Satan was looking genuinely concerned. When you mouthed _what’s wrong?_ at him, he shrugged and gave you a worried look. Satan, expressing concern- and you didn’t think it was concern for himself, or for Mammon, or you- this was new. Lucifer and Satan’s relationship had improved, but not to the extent that Satan would be concerned about Lucifer for something mild.

“Lucifer? What’s wrong? Mammon, what did you do?” You ask the second-eldest demon, who is slowly rotating in a circle as he hangs. His face is going red and his hair is floating comically as gravity pulls at it. 

“H-hey, why do you always assume I did something? I didn’t do anything, I was just standing here!” He protests, waving his hands in a vague gesture. You raise one eyebrow.

“It’s true. He was just standing there.” Satan comments, closing the book in his hands. “Lucifer, why did you hang him upside down?”

“He got in my way. And didn’t move out of my way.” Lucifer is at the centre of his own personal thunderstorm. The air around him practically crackles with dark energy; his posture is tense and drawn up to his full height. He looks absolutely furious.

“I didn’t even know you were there!” Mammon protests. “Ya coulda said something! I would have moved!”

“You should have noticed,” Lucifer replies coolly, and your frown deepens in response.

“What’s wrong? You seem-“ you don’t want to say the word _upset_ in front of anyone for fear of making the situation worse, “-tense?”

“Of course I am tense, this idiot takes up too much space with that big empty head of his and refuses to make room for anyone else!”

“Lucifer… the hall is huge. Couldn’t you have walked around him?” You ask gently, knowing he’ll be immediately on the defensive.

He opens his mouth to reply, his face working into a familiar expression of rage before it dissipates. He closes his mouth and lets out a sigh. “Satan, please let your brother down.” He says, and Satan nods. “You. Come with me.” He points to you, and you cock your head in response. You let him lead you to the kitchen, where he pours himself a glass of cold water and drinks it. A vein is popping in his temple still.

“Long day? What happened?” You ask, gently reaching for the hand not holding his glass. He seems to unwind just a tiny amount at your touch, and you hold on just a little tighter.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just student council business.” He dismisses you, as you expected, but you’re not about to let it slide. Not when his body is almost shaking with tension and anger and energy.

“I have seen you furious at your brothers, seen you furious at me, seen you all kinds of tense, seen you scared—“ his expression changes at the mention of his fear, lips curving downward, “—I have seen you in a myriad of emotions and I have never seen you worked up like this. It’s not nothing. Don’t lie to me.” You narrow your eyes and fix him with a firm look. His brow furrows and he almost pulls back, but then he sighs.

“Diavolo and I had a… disagreement.” He finally confesses, and your eyes widen in surprise.

“A disagreement? Over what?”

“He thinks we should expand the exchange program next year. Invite more than two students. I countered with the amount of chaos you alone have brought, let alone Solomon or the two angels. He argued that you have been incredibly beneficial for us and the Devildom- which I do not necessarily disagree with so don’t give me that look- and that more humans and more angels would have even more benefits. I told him that any more chaos would put an untold strain on all of us and especially him, and to not tempt fate and at least give it a few more years before modifying the program. His enthusiasm… is getting the better of him. But he reminded me he has the final say and after we… discussed it a bit more, I had to leave or I’d say something I would immediately regret.” His hand clenches in yours, wanting to form a fist.

“Ah, I see.” You settle back against the counter, thumb rubbing circles on the back of his hand. “You do not fight with him often. The last time must have been when Belphegor got really aggressive about the exchange program. And that, well, it ended well enough but it did cause several rifts.”

“No, actually, it wasn’t.” His response catches you off guard and you turn to look at him. He stares at the far wall, a small flush barely grazing his cheeks. “That wasn’t the last time I fought with him, I mean. I… after I almost attacked you. Down in the crypt, when you shielded Beelzebub and Luke. I insisted that he end the program or at least send you home. You’d only been here a few weeks and I’d almost killed you twice, and Levi had almost killed you yet another time. He refused to send you home. In the end it was the right decision, but I was furious. Still, you are correct. I do not fight with him often. In fact, in the last several hundred years, I can count the number of times we’ve had serious disagreements on my fingers.” You give said fingers a squeeze.

“You know what you need to do? You need to relax. To let loose. Give in a little.” You thread your fingers through his, giving him a hopeful smile. His expression darkens, and you expect him to open his mouth and protest, or simply to dismiss you. But maybe your logic finally works, or the hopeful expression on your face, because he sighs and gives the smallest of nods.

“I suppose I could… engage in a little relaxation. I could get more done in less time than I would be able to do now, right?” His grip on your hand tightens, and his expression is both pensive and hopeful. “To your room, or mine?” He asks, and you give him a smile. He still thinks this might be a normal encounter, so you’ll just have to lay the option out in the moment.

“Mine. I have something special for you.” You reply, pushing away from the counter and pulling him behind you by the hand. A shudder runs through his body, and he follows intently.

“What is this special thing you have prepared for me?” Lucifer asks, unbuttoning his uniform jacket and carefully folding it and laying it upon your desk. The number of times he’d torn a seam ripping it off in the heat of the moment makes the gesture almost comical. “Should I be concerned?”

You just give him a demure smile over your shoulder as you turn your back to him. You take off your jacket as well, opening the book to the page you’ve bookmarked. You trace the symbol first on the page, then again on your chest, at the base of your throat. You feel a subtle warmth and see a faint glow, and you know it has worked. 

“Hmm?” Lucifer says, and you jump. He’s watching you, but your back obscures anything from view. “What was that you said?” You close the book, feeling a surge of confidence in your chest. The magic sigil will give you enough strength to manipulate the pact bond and command him. Not enough to do anything ridiculous or channel any large amount of power, but you are banking on him not putting up much of a fight.

“Oh, nothing,” you immediately deflect, trying to unbutton your shirt. It’s a challenge, your hands are shaking from nerves and excitement. He gives you an amused smile, brushing your hands out of the way and deftly undoing the uniform shirt in a few well-practised movements. A flush heats your cheeks and you steel yourself, returning the favour. You resist the urge to lick your lips as your fingers brush across his collarbone. He’s still wound tight, possibly even tighter than before, as you gently push him back towards your bed.

“Oh? Taking the lead, are you?” He asks, pulling your shirt free of your body with surprising gentleness as he lets himself be maneuvered. “… I’ll allow it.”

_Yes, yes you will._ You think, a small fire in your eyes as you throw one leg over his torso, straddling him as your fingers play with the gilded belt that stands between you and the target. His skin is hot, almost burning against your own as you rock your hips forward, providing just a ghost of friction. You grin when he inhales, sharply, though his expression does not change. You enjoy knowing you are affecting him, even when he does his best not to show it.

You take your sweet time undoing the belt buckle, your fingers barely shaking at all now as you slide the leather and metal until it falls away. Lucifer’s face is flushed and his brow furrows more by the minute, you can tell he’s getting impatient. You undo his pants, sliding them off at a leisurely pace. Lucifer lets out a snort of disapproval at the slow pace, but you give him one look and he just sighs and falls back.

Despite the outward irritation, you can see he’s plenty interested based on the outline in his briefs. He looks expectantly at you, ready for you to take off your clothes and get to business, but you simply give him a demure smile. You run one hand up the inside of a thigh, feeling him try to repress the shudder that runs through him.

“I make you feel good, yes?” You ask, and his expression darkens.

“I make _you_ feel good.” He counters, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Yes, you do.” You give him that, knowing it’ll stroke his ego in a way you’ve decided to allow tonight. His lips curve up in a smirk. “But I make you feel good, don’t I.” It’s not a question as you rock your hips forward again, grinding up against where his briefs have started to tent.

“Yes. You do.” He finally acquiesces, through partially clenched teeth.

“And you trust me, to make you feel good, don’t you?” Your fingers splay out across his chest as you lean down, bringing your face within inches of his. He makes to sit up further and kiss you, but you give him a little shove and he falls back to the mattress with a grunt.

“Yes. I do.” He nods once, the hunger in his eyes burning brightly. A grin stretches across your face. It’s almost predatory, and he immediately picks up on the energy shift. The balance of power, perhaps, has been adjusted.

“Good.” You push him down once more, sliding off the bed. “You know the safeword. You can use it at any time. Now stay.” There’s force in your words, and there’s a faint glow from the base of your throat. You know the sigil is glowing, coming to life as you command through the pact bond. Lucifer’s eyes widen and he automatically tries to sit up- and he can’t.

“What are you playing at-“ he asks, narrowing his eyes at you. You smile, making your way over to the box of items you’d procured a few days ago. He tries to sit up once more, testing your strength. You feel a slight tug, but he doesn’t fight it any more.

“I told you, I want you to try letting go of control. I’ve done some research, gotten my hands on a few things…” you pick up the box and bring it back over to the foot of your bed. The blue flame burns in his eyes, not as brightly as you’ve seen it, but it’s definitely there. He’s trusting you. It’s not a fire like the one you know from previous encounters with Lucifer’s rage. It’s not a raging, destructive, furious fire. No, this one burns low and slow, racing under his skin and heating his body to your touch. It’s all-consuming.

“What are you doing? Where did you learn that sigil, what plans do you have for me tonight?” If you didn’t know better, you’d think he sounded angry. But you do know better, he’s tense as all hell but there’s no fury in his voice. He’s curious and grappling with his pride as it wars with his desire to see what is going to happen.

“I’m going to make you relax. I’m going to take control- or, rather, I already have. And you are going to let me keep control and you are going to let me make you feel good.” You round the side of the bed and give him a quick kiss. He cranes his neck up, trying to chase your lips, but you pull away with a smile. You show him a couple items from the box and his eyes widen, his gaze flickering back and forth between your face, the items, and his own body. His cheeks flush and you note the interest.

You return to the foot of the bed, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. It’s not as heavy or fast as it was when he first realized you were using the pact to keep him complacent. You bite back a smart comment, repressing a sassy retort to the words he’d said before you made that pact. It wouldn’t do to rile him up in that way. Not if you wanted him to stay interested. 

“You’re far too clothed for this,” Lucifer says, his eyes watching your every movement. You’re still wearing pants, after all.

“If you behave, the pants will come off.” You promise, clicking a remote. The ring in your hand vibrates. Lucifer’s eyes get wide, and your smile gets wider. You turn it off and watch as he squirms as much as the pact bond will let him, trying to maintain his composure even as the, ah, _interest_ , in his briefs becomes more apparent. “Now you’re starting to understand.”

“What horrible thing has Asmodeus talked you into doing to me?” He asks, voice low. You wrinkle your brow.

“Not horrible. If you trust me this will be one of the best things we’ve ever done. I promise. And he has nothing to do with this, I’ve been thinking about this for ages.” You get up onto the bed again, trailing your hands up the insides of his thighs at a very slow pace. Your thumbs trace circles into the creamy flesh. You can tell when he represses the shudder, maintaining his composure. This is going to be a very intricate, slow, gift unwrapping. But the present inside… well. It’ll be worth it.

You hook your thumbs in the waistband of his briefs and ease them off, keeping your eyes on his face. He’s pointedly still looking at you, cheeks barely dusted with pink. His cock, now freed, is curved up and towards his stomach. You’re not one for assigning adjectives to genitals, but it’s true that his is as beautiful as he is himself. You brush your hand down the shaft and reach for the box again. He lets out a soft breath as you pull away, only to inhale once more as you squeeze a little lubricant from a tube onto the ring in your hands. You give his cock a couple more strokes before sliding the cock ring on, guiding it down to the base. A perfect fit.

You smile, a self-satisfied kind of grin, and continue with your slow and steady path up Lucifer’s body. His hips buck just a little, an involuntary motion, as your hands leave his cock tragically unattended to. You brush your fingers over the deep v-line that trails down, where hard muscle overlays the pelvis that juts out just a bit when he’s lying flat like this. His navel moves beneath your hands, each one of his breath’s carefully measured.

You glance up, moving your hands up his chest once more. He’s watching you still with that same burning intensity. That look never fails to make your knees feel a little more like jelly than they should. Your head dips, your lips touch his skin. He lets out an almost imperceptible sigh. He’s probably thinking you’re killing him with this slow pace. Little does he know…

You kiss a line up the centre of his chest, fingers splayed out across the broad expanse of muscle. After a moment’s hesitation, you deviate from your path. He lets out a grunt of surprise when your lips close around one of his nipples and the other is taken in between two fingers. This is the first time you feel a hint of resistance against the pact order, but it fades as you roll the sensitive bud between your fingers and gently tease with your tongue. His heartbeat has sped up considerably, pounding away beneath his rib cage. You can hear it, a steady rhythm that betrays his excitement even as you see his expression is still carefully neutral. 

Your mouth abandons the nub in favour of biting down gently on his collarbone, not enough to break skin but enough to make his heart skip a beat. You wish, not for the first time, that your teeth were more like your demon companion’s. You can see the sharp points when he lets out a long exhale, yet another sign he’s excited despite his iron-clad control on his facial expression. A shudder runs through you at the memory of the feeling of those elongated canines digging into your own flesh.

Though you may be fang-less it doesn’t stop you from making a beautiful bouquet of bruises up the side of Lucifer’s neck and throat, still keeping up your ministrations with your fingers. He lets out a soft groan after a minute, his chest moving beneath you as he shifts his hips. You pull back, admiring your handiwork and sitting down firmly on his chest. “What did I say about moving? Stay put, dear.” The sigil flares to life again and he lets out a grunt and stops moving once more.

“You… are taking too long.” He finally gets out, and the words bring a blinding smile to your face. 

“Oh nonsense, I am just getting started.” You choose that moment to press the button on the remote. His eyes go wide as the cock ring starts vibrating, kept at the lowest setting… for now.

“F-fuck.” He lets out a curse and you grin as his hips stutter up again, his cock seeking something to grind against.

“See? Told you I’d make you feel good.” You say as you get up off of him and head back to the foot of the bed. You reach for the lube once more and apply a healthy portion to two fingers, situating yourself between his legs once more. “Just let me know if you want me to stop.” You murmur, kissing the inside of his thigh as the vibrator keeps its persistent pace. You slip one finger inside him and then the other when you meet barely any resistance. His eyes go wide and his chest curves up, his back arching up off the bed at the intrusion. You scissor your fingers back and forth inside him, watching as a slew of emotions flood across his face.

Surprise. Shock. A sliver of anger. Embarrassment. Relief. You’re not sure which one is leading but the pink of his cheeks burns a little brighter and his breath comes in two short gasps before he regains his composure and falls back against the bed with a sigh. You smile, continuing to pepper his inner thigh with kisses as you play with him, feeling his body tremble as you push a little deeper.

“Relax, Lucifer. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” You tell him and bite back a frown as you see that knee-jerk reaction he always has to being told what to do. That flicker of anger you’ve become familiar with. The avatar of pride, after all, is prideful. He used to react to your suggestions to rest or sleep as well as your offers to help with hostility. You’d impressed upon him that offering help wasn’t you seeing him as anything less. It was just how you showed that you cared. So when you tell him to relax and he stiffens you simply push a little deeper until he relaxes again with a huff. 

“Good. You’re good, you’re so good for me.” You murmur against his thigh and hide a grin as his hips jerk up into the air, cock bobbing as he thrusts up automatically at the words of praise. Ah, being prideful had two sides to its coin. “You like that, don’t you? You like me telling you how good you are, how perfect you look right now, how happy you make me when you let me- aha.” You notice his breathing has sped up, his face has flushed, and how he’s clenching around your fingers. Quick as lightning, you click the remote to turn the ring off and pull your fingers free, watching as he shudders.

“W- what- why did you stop, I was- was I about to…?” he frowns as he comes down off the almost-high. He’s red in the face- he normally lasted longer and he knows you know that. But he’s also confused.

“Oh, I know.” You reply with a small smile, and his eyes narrow suspiciously.

“You’re teasing me, human? Is that wise, for a mortal to tease a powerful demon? Why, I could devour you before you even had time to blink.” You spy black ivory points poking through his dishevelled hair; his horns were threatening to sprout from his head in his agitation and excitement. You run your clean hand along his thigh and up his chest, kissing his navel as you rock your hips against his.

“I’m sure you could, but you won’t. Because you know I make you feel good, and you make me feel good, and you’re curious about where this is going. Don’t bother denying it.” His eyebrows raise in surprise and skepticism, but his lips quirk in a playful smile. “If you behave I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.” You promise, and his eyes get dark as he imagines the possibilities. You laugh, knowing that if things go to plan he’ll be way too tired to do anything for at least a day.

“Deal.” He licks his upper lip, a casual swipe of the tongue that has your core tightening as you watch the movement with fascination. You nip at the skin of his navel, teeth snagging on the smooth skin. You feel the strong muscles underneath you twitch, and you rock your hips forward again against his. You’re still wearing pants and you feel as he bucks up against you in a rhythmic pattern. He’s chasing that pleasure without even realizing it, because his eyes are locked on yours as you prop yourself up with both hands on his chest, tracing the muscles underneath his skin as you rock once more, allowing him to continue his rutting as your nails scratch his skin. This draws another stifled gasp from him and you reach down and grasp him by the shaft, stilling his motions. He lets out a grunt as he’s denied release once more, his chest puffing up until it’s almost touching your own.

“Let me… touch you.” He says through gritted teeth and you pause to consider the prospect. He’s ordering you, but there’s the barest hint of desperation in his voice.

“Mmm, no.” You decide against it, placing a soft kiss against his lips as an apology. “But once this is over I promise you can have your hands all over me and you will get that chance.” You place one finger over his mouth and grin a cheshire grin. “You’re in for one hell of a ride, pardon the pun.” The sigil flares to life at the base of your throat as you double down on keeping him in place and you slide off of him and head back for the box. You’d play with him some more, make him squirm on your fingers a few more times, but then it was time for the real deal.

He saw you strip off your pants and get ready, his eyes widening as he started to get a hint of where this is going.

“…big…” he was able to get out before he clenched his jaw shut and a stubborn look cemented itself on his face. Your grin gets wider as you reach for the lube once more, reapplying it on your fingers and pushing his legs further apart.

“You’re very pretty like this.” You say, slipping one finger inside his rim and tracing it in a circle. His face flushed at the praise and you slide the second one in, pushing deeper than you had before. It pushes a short breath out of his chest as you scissor your fingers back and forth, feeling him tense and relax around you. “That’s good, relax. Just relax. I’m going to take care of you.” You push yet deeper, opening him wider.

He hisses as you slide another finger in and you take a breath to make sure he’s okay. He makes eye contact with you and the breath is almost knocked out of you by the look in his eyes. He _is_ fire. It burns hot, it burns bright, and it burns for you. You twist the three fingers inside him and he grunts, eyes fluttering shut. You curl them, one at a time, forward and up. Searching. You know you’ve found it when his eyes fly open and he lets out a soft cry. It’s barely louder than a hard breath but you can feel in how he clenched around you that you’ve found what you were looking for. You stop moving, letting him adjust, before tracing a slow circle around that secret bundle of nerves.

“What are you- oh-“ he clenches again, breath coming hard and fast, and you quickly pull back. His cock bobs in protest as he lets out a “ _fuck”_ through clenched teeth. You laugh, a soft noise deep in your chest. His chest rises and falls as his breathing slows and he gives you a glare.

“You’re not getting it until you relax. I’m not going to let you cum until you’re prepared to beg for it.” You tell him, and his eyes widen, then narrow again.

“You’ll get too tired before that happens.” He says, but you just raise your eyebrows and shrug your shoulders. He exhales sharply as the gesture moves your fingers, which are still buried inside him. There’s a seed of doubt in his eyes, and you’re ready to see it grow.

“Want to bet on that?” You ask, lowering your lips to the head of his cock for a gentle kiss and running your tongue up the underside. It’s affecting him more with each passing moment as you play with the shaft, taking it in your free hand and giving it a few lazy pumps. It takes him at least a minute to come down after you edge him each time, and the time it takes for him to approach the edge of orgasm decreases with each repetition. He’s still stubbornly holding out, though, the tension ebbs and flows as he gets close and then is denied time and again.

_“How- how are you so good with your fingers?”_ He manages to squeeze out after you bring him close by circling his prostate twice in five minutes.

“I’m just patient and I know what makes you feel good.” You reply. You know your casual tone irritates and excites him. He’s used to passion from you. He’s been brought to the edge six times now and his body has lost much of its tension in his limbs. His arms are splayed out, on either side of his torso and his legs bob with every movement of his core, so lax you could push them out of place with just a finger’s touch. His hair is dishevelled and his face is flushed a most delicate shade of pink. He’s beautiful, every bit as beautiful as Simeon described him as an angel.

“F-fuck, oh, you’re doing it again-“ He’s running his mouth more often now, words coming freely as he twists and clenches around you. You’re still just working him with the three fingers massaging his prostate and playing with the base of his cock. “More. Give me more.” It’s a plea, framed as an order, and it gives you pause as you look down at yourself.

“I would have like to hear the word please, but you’ve been good so far. Do you think you’ve earned this?” You ask, pulling your fingers free and relishing in the gasp that involuntarily leaves his lips.

“Y-yes…?” He sounds unsure, for the first time in a long time.

“Hmm, let me think. You’ve been working all day, every day, hardly ever taking a day off in thousands of years. I’ve found you passed out on your desk twice. You always resist offers to help and you think that me wanting to help you is a statement of weakness, rather than me showing you I care and that I want you to be happy.” You hold one leg in each hand and start to push in, slowly. His eyes go wide as you keep going, rocking your hips slowly to set a gentle push-and-pull.

“You’re powerful, loyal, stubborn, prideful, kind, fiercely protective of those you love, and too persistent to know when to quit. You’re utterly devoted to those you care about and are too caught up in your service of others to know when to take a break. You’ve shown me what it means to truly care about someone, to put their needs before your own. And yet you are still- or perhaps were still- taking your perceived job too seriously to let yourself relax. So yes, I would dare say you’ve earned this. Relax, Lucifer. Let me love you like you deserve.” You push deeper inside and he goes limp, body sinking into the bed as he breathes hard.

You half expect a retort to the criticism you mixed with all that praise but instead you just hear a gentle moan spill past his lips as you angle your hips up and move out and in, feeling how his body responds. The soft sound brings a thrill of pleasure that drives right to your core and you respond by pushing in deeper- there’s still more to go if he needs it but he looks close. All the patience and teasing has paid off. He’s clinging to the edge with what’s approaching desperate finality.

“Let me love you.” You repeat again with a murmur, pressing a kiss to the thigh that’s nearest your mouth. He lets out a soft gasp as your lips touch his skin and you lick your lips. “Let yourself be loved.”

He cries out at that, and you stop, watching as he gasps for air. His head is turned up and to the side, away from you, and you watch as his chest heaves up and down in big stuttering breaths. When he doesn’t turn back to you right away you gently place a hand on the centre of his chest, asking a question without words. Slowly his flushed face turns back to you and you inhale as you see tears sparkling in those burning eyes.

“Please.” He asks, and you exhale. “P-please. Please love me. Please let me- let me come.” The dam breaks and his hands clench at the covers desperately and his core twists as he tries to rock himself on you, tears running down his face as his breath comes in gasps. “Please, please, please-“ you smile, a brilliant white grin as you push the rest of the way in and he gasps, back arching off the bed as you thrust in and out at a fervent pace. One hand works the ring off of his desperate and neglected cock and you lock eyes with him.

“Come for me, Lucifer.” You order as you finally drive it home. His body bends, almost lifting entirely off the bed as he screams your name in one drawn-out cry, coming _hard_ as come splatters his chest and your own. His body shakes as you continue to thrust, letting him ride out the orgasm and drawing it along for as long as you can. His cock continues to leak copious amounts of come as he lets out a moan that tapers off into a sob.

“Good, good, you did so wonderfully.” You murmur as you gently pull out, releasing him from the pact command that kept him on his back. He reaches up with shaky hands and pulls you down by the shoulders and you gently guide your face to his for a tender kiss. He tastes like salt and relief and his body is finally relaxed. He’s pliant in your hands as you brush hair away from his face and kiss him again. “I love you. Thank you for trusting me.” You say. “I’ll clean us both up. Can I get you some water or something?”

He opens his mouth to deny, a reflexive action, and then thinks better of it. “Yes, some water would be nice. But make it quick. I want that chance to get my hands all over you like you promised.” You smile and pour two glasses, handing one to him for him to sip as you carefully and reverently clean the both of you up. As soon as you finish he’s pulling you into bed, wrapping himself completely around you as a laugh spills past your lips.

“Thank you for this. I feel… a lot better. I should have let you do this a lot earlier.” He murmurs, tucking his face into the crook of your neck and kissing the sensitive skin there with lazy tenderness. He _is_ tired, you realize. You’ve worn him out, fucked him until the pent-up tension flowed out of him.

“I’m just glad you trusted me. I wanted to make you feel good, make you feel appreciated.”

“You succeeded.”

“Good, I’m glad. You did so well, you were perfect. Everything I could have hoped for.” You stoke his pride as you run your fingers down his back as he rolls you over onto your own, looking down at you with a soft expression on his face.

“I love you.” He says, serious but endlessly fond.

“I love you too.”

“I do want to make good on that promise you made, something about me doing anything I want to you, but… nap first.” He admits, a laugh rumbling in his chest. His legs give out and he lets out a little ‘oof’ of surprise as he falls down on top of you, and you waste no time wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. You press your lips to one of the bites you’d decorated his skin with earlier and you let out an appreciative hum.

“I did do a number on you, didn’t I?” You murmur, running your fingers through his hair. He seems to be— just like you— content to simply stay and be in the moment.

“Mmm, you brought the avatar of pride to his knees and more. I don’t think I’ve begged for anything in thousands of years. But, you’re right… it didn’t make me feel weak. It just made me feel _trust_. And I haven’t had an orgasm like that in years. Well worth it. Thank you… thank you for being patient with me.” He glances at the door, at his discarded clothes, and then back to you. “Is it okay if I stay here? I hate to impose, but I don’t think my legs would let me make it up the stairs.”

“Lucifer I just spent an hour fucking you in a dozen different ways. You’re not imposing. Now shut up and cuddle me until we fall asleep.” You silence him with a kiss and tug the blankets up, covering your bare bodies as you settle in. You fit perfectly beside him like you’re meant to be there, and you drift off to the rhythm of his heart, slow and steady and every bit _yours_.


End file.
